Love Declarations
by ValeriaAnne
Summary: Written as a 'late' contribution to the ILYAnniversary2020.


**Note:** For some reason, I always post late for the ILY anniversary. This is the third year in a row, and for someone who is really punctuate in her deadlines, this pattern is totally uncomfortable and confusing.

* * *

"_Molly, please."_

"_I love you."_

* * *

**6 months later**

"You have to come, Molly. You know how much Sophie loves you. She thinks that I am the one keeping you here working on a night shift and that will NOT end well."

"I lo…like her, too, Mike, and I really want to come, but I am not sure I am in the right mood for attending a party."

John was greeted by this conversation between Molly and Mike in Barts' Pathology lab.

"Hello, everyone." John greeted them.

"Oh, John, hello to you." Mike replied with a smile.

"Hi, John." replied Molly, rather quietly.

"I am one lucky man. You just saved me a visit to the post office to send you this." Mike continued, turning fully to face John and handing him a closed fancy envelope.

"What is this?" John asked, taking the offered envelope in his hands and inspecting it.

"An invitation to my 20th wedding anniversary. Sophie and I have decided to renew our vows. It's next Wednesday." Mike replied excitedly.

John raised one eyebrow.

Mike continued, "Sophie insists. She says '20' is a special number and we should celebrate it with our family and close friends."

"Good idea." John murmured, trying not to dwell in his memories, in the what-ifs; how would his 20th wedding anniversary be like if Mary was still here?

If seemed that Mike felt his friend's discomfort, as he patted John on the shoulder gently before saying, "It is always good to see you, John." John nodded silently, not trusting his own voice.

Mike turned to Molly abruptly before saying, "And, Molly, you are coming to the party. End of Discussion." Then he marched out, leaving her invitation on the lab bench.

John and Molly shared a look, then they both shrugged.

John was the first to break the silence, asking tentatively, "How are you, Molly?"

"I am fine. You? And Rosie?"

"Good. We are both good."

John and Molly were still feeling a little bit awkward around each other. For John's part, it was because of his actions when he was mourning Mary and he still felt guilty for forcing Molly to send Sherlock away when he came around. He knew he was entitled to grieve his wife but he pushed Molly so far and she was patient and kind enough to stay around for Rosie's sake and his sake, as well. As for Molly's part, well, it was still quite hard to see the people who watched her reveal her deepest and most-guarded secret, especially when she didn't know she was being watched. A silent unspoken agreement was made, John stopped visiting her at home, he still felt unworthy of setting a foot inside it, it was her personal space and he felt as if things between them as friends were still fragile. So, they would mostly see each other at Barts or at John's house when Molly visited to see Rosie.

"So, what brings you here today?" Molly asked, in an attempt to escape the awkwardness.

"I was visiting a colleague who was admitted here for a ruptured spleen. Then thought I could pass by and check on you."

"Oh. Thanks."

"So, are you going?"

"To the party?"

John nodded silently.

"Well, you heard Mike." Molly shrugged. "He will probably fire me if I don't." she continued with a weak smile. Even her sense of humor wasn't the same anymore.

"I just don't feel in the mood. I will probably be like a sore finger." She continued softly.

"Well, that's what parties are for. To change the mood for better."

"Will you be there? At least I can find someone to talk to."

"I am not sure, but I will think of it. I will need to check my schedule. You know, between the practice and Rosie, things are a bit hectic. But you really should go. Have some fun. Get out of this lab and this morgue. Get some fresh air. You deserve that, Molly."

"Okay", she said softly.

"So…um, time to go. Don't want to interrupt your work any longer. I will see you later."

"Sure. Kiss Rosie for me till I see her."

"I will."

"And Molly?"

"Yes?"

"It is always good to see you." John said, repeating the same words Mike has just told him, and meaning them, too.

* * *

It was around 4:00 PM when John unlocked the front door to 221 Baker Street and ascended the stairs. The door to Sherlock's flat was open, and, as usual these past few months, Sherlock was playing on his new violin and scribbling notes on his music sheet.

Silently, John walked to Sherlock, patted him on the shoulder, then took off his jacket, put it on his favourite chair, and headed to the bathroom. Two steps later, John stopped, turned around, and then walked back to his chair, and picked up his jacket. He picked the envelope Mike gave him and placed it on the small table beside Sherlock's armchair, before turning around again and resuming his silent walk to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, John emerged from the bathroom to find Sherlock sitting on his leather armchair, frowning at the envelope in his hands. When he heard John's steps, he looked up, raising his right eyebrow questionably.

"It is an invitation to the 20th wedding anniversary of Mike and Sophie, his wife." John explained quietly.

Sherlock looked back to the envelope, then back to John.

"Why did you leave it here by my chair? I assume it is yours."

John took a deep breath, then continued, "Molly is going, too. I saw Mike giving her the invitation."

"And you are telling me this because?" Sherlock asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

John picked up his jacket, then sat on his chair, facing Sherlock, "Because I am your friend and I am her friend, too, and I hate to see both of you hurting like that; you for trying to bury how you feel, and her for being kept in the dark about how _you_ feel."

Sherlock threw his head backwards, closing his eyes tight, "John, I told you a thousand times…"

"I told you before and I will say it again. Bloody hell, I will say it every day until it gets to that thick mind of yours." John shouted.

Sherlock's head whipped in John's direction, feeling humiliated and angry by his friend's accusation, "Thick mind? How dare….."

John interrupted calmly, "The chance comes to you only once, and it can go in a blink of an eye, before you know it. And you won't be able to get it back no matter how hard you try."

Sherlock rubbed his eyes with his fingers, trying to push this conversation to an end, but John wouldn't take it. "Maybe Molly is the currency that Mary gifted you, Sherlock. Don't lose that. Don't lose her. You are lucky, Sherlock, even if you don't realize it now. Feelings aren't always good, but believe me, my friend, regret is the worst of them all. Don't let it get to you or it eats you up."

Sherlock didn't respond, but instead stared at his friend, captivated or horrified by the uttered words, John couldn't really tell. But he wasn't going to stop, not now.

"You can take it as slow or as fast as you need. You just need to take the first step and everything will sort itself out. Molly will help you sort everything out. She always does."

And without another word, John stood up, wore his jacket and left, leaving the invitation envelope in Sherlock's hands.

* * *

It has been a wonderful reception. Mike and Sophie's children attended, along with members of the family and the couple's close friends. It was a simple yet intimate event, and everyone was enjoying themselves.

Mike and Sophie asked everyone to say a few words to the couple, instead of buying them gifts or sending them fancy cards.

The couple's children were first, saying the sweetest words to their lovely parents, then they were followed by Sophie's siblings and Mike's sister. Later, close friends started taking turns, saying a few congratulatory words to the couple and wishing them more happy years together.

"And now the mic goes to Molly." Mike shouted happily.

The announcement startled Molly and pulled her out of her trance. She listened to each and every word that every guest shared, and during those moments, she could feel a little bit of happiness that started to creep into her. Maybe John and Mike were right, maybe all she needed was surrounding herself with some goodness, even if she shared it with people she didn't really know, and for a short time.

But now, as it was her turn to speak, she suddenly realized that she had nothing happy to share with the lovely couple and their guests.

One of the guests offered Molly the mic, and with trembling hands, she picked the mic and stood up. She looked straight to the couple, then swallowed hard, took a deep breath and started talking.

"Hi, everyone. My name is Molly. I work with Mike."

"Hi, Molly". Many of the guests murmured.

"So, um… I guess there is nothing more can be said after what you have already said. I mean, um, most of you… Maybe all of you know Mike and Sophie way before I met them."

_Focus, Molly._

"I just want to say, congratulations first, of course, for your 20th anniversary. And…I… I think I should really say that I believe it was a good idea to, um, renew your vows today. To remind yourselves of whom you pledged your life and your feelings to. For whom you vowed to support in sickness and in health. For whom you declared your love."

Many guests around Molly nodded in agreement, and Mike and Sophie had the biggest smiles on their faces.

Molly kept talking, as if possessed, seizing the chance to get it all out, "You should celebrate these vows every single day. Celebrate that you have found a mate, a partner and a friend in one person. Celebrate your love, your understanding of each other, your memories, and your achievements. Celebrate everything you share."

"And keep in mind that you are lucky, and appreciate that gift daily. The gift of sharing love and life with someone who wants the same things with you. Celebrate that your love declaration was a happy one."

Molly swallowed heavily, and when she locked eyes with Mike, she felt as if he understood, though she was sure no one except Sherlock, John, Mycroft, Eurus, and herself, knew what happened back in Sherrinford, when there was a coffin made for her.

All of a sudden, Molly felt her courage failing her, and her throat was clogged with buried emotions. All of a sudden, she felt like she was back in her kitchen, but instead of her small audience back then, all these guests were the audience, and they were watching her falling apart, being torn to pieces and forced to confess her deepest yet most public secret.

As a last chance to gather her courage and say her last words, Molly tightened her grip on the mic and said in a voice she hoped wasn't trembling, "Because love declarations are supposed to be happy, right?"

And with that, she handed the mic to the next guest, then collected her purse and shawl and turned to leave before anyone could stop her.

A few steps towards the exit door, and that's when she saw him.

Sherlock. Standing by the glass door, hiding at least half of his body behind it, but still close enough to hear everything…. Everything she had just said.

_Oh, God. Not again, please._

For a few moments, she was rooted to the spot. She was mostly sure she was dreaming, or maybe hallucinating.

_What is he doing here? Mike didn't say anything about inviting him._

With her mind set, she quickly walked to the door, walking past him, looking ahead and clutching her purse to her chest as an armor.

Her high-heels clicked loudly against the porcelain tiles as she tried to walk away as fast as she could while wrapping herself in her shawl and heading to the main entrance.

"Not all love declarations are happy." Sherlock suddenly said, matter-of-factly. His voice wasn't close, but he wasn't far either. He followed her to the main entrance, but kept a distance, too.

Molly stopped in her tracks, her back to him, holding the ends of her shawl in one fist and her purse in the other, "I am aware of that."

"It's not a fairy tale." He continued, taking one step towards her.

"Why are you here, Sherlock?" Molly asked in irritation, turning around abruptly to face him.

"I wanted to see you." Sherlock replied gingerly.

"Here?" Molly asked incredulously.

"I wanted to see you outside Barts."

Molly narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Did you steal John's invitation?"

"He gave it to me." Sherlock replied quickly.

A few moments passed and Molly decided she wasn't going to analyze what he just said. She straightened her back and said, "Well, enjoy the party. I should be going." Then she turned to leave.

"Wait!" Sherlock suddenly cried out. Molly stopped again, her left side facing Sherlock, but she didn't look at him.

"They are supposed to be true, right?" Sherlock spoke tenderly.

"What?"

Sherlock took a deep breath, then a couple of steps to Molly, "Love declarations. When someone says that they … love… someone else. They are supposed to be meaning them, right?"

Molly tightened the shawl around her shoulders, as if protecting herself from further damage, "Not always. They could just be saving someone else's life."

"Molly…."

Molly interrupted him, finally facing him, anger is already boiling inside her "It's not a fairy tale. I know that. Unlike what many people think, I am not really fond of fairytales, because they aren't true." Then she continued bitterly, "Just like forced confessions."

With those last four words, Sherlock stood still as if Molly has just slapped him again.

"Bye, Sherlock." Molly finally said, feeling a little triumphant at silencing him.

_Triumph mixed with guilt, maybe?_

"I meant it." Once more, Sherlock stopped Molly from leaving. This time it was his turn to silence her.

Molly turned fully to face him again, her eyes wide and staring at his.

Sherlock continued quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment by his own silence, "I meant it. I still mean it. And all those months I have been trying to put my feelings back into my Pandora's Box…no, no wait. Wait. That came out wrong."

Tentatively, Sherlock took the last step that separated them, then as gentle as he could, he touched Molly's right hand that was still clutching the shawl, "I mean it, molly. I do love you and I understand that the pain I have caused you over the years isn't really helping you believing me but here I am saying it, with no guns, no bombs, no ticking timers, nothing. Just you and me."

_Was this even real?_

"I only need one thing from you." He continued gingerly.

"What do you need?" She replied, breathless, echoing the same words she offered him years ago.

"A chance. One chance is all I need, along with your patience and support. I know it may sound opportunistic but I won't deny the truth anymore, you balance me and it's time for me to explore that new side. I need your guidance, Molly. I can't do this without you."

Feeling more courageous, because so far she hasn't slapped him or stomped on his foot with her heels, he smiled sadly and said wistfully, "A dear friend once told me that all I have to do is take the first step and then everything will sort itself out. That you will help me sort everything out. Like you always do."

"Are you willing Molly?" Sherlock asked softly. "Are you willing to take that step with me?"

For a whole minute, Molly kept staring at his eyes, and he kept touching her knuckles with his fingertips.

"One condition." She finally whispered.

"Anything."

"No more half-truths."

"I promise."

Molly nodded, then she turned her hand in his and held it cautiously, then tightened her grip, lifting her eyes to smile at him.

"Before we go…." He suddenly said, "I want one dance with you."

"Here?" Molly asked, surprised.

Sherlock shrugged, "Might as well do it now, we are practically in the middle of a party where people are actually forced to dance."

Molly bit her lower lip nervously, "I was thinking… maybe we can have our first dance in a more private place, say Baker Street."

Sherlock's smile couldn't have been brighter, "Let's go."

"You always know how to impress me." Molly uttered the words before she could stop herself.

"And you always know where to find me." Sherlock beamed, before taking Molly's face in his free hand, and leaning forward to enjoy their first kiss…. the first kiss of many more to come.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
